No Game
by Jedi-Gingka
Summary: One night, under the stars after Madoka had left, a "Normal" evening turned abnormally into the worst night Gingka Hagane could think of. FAST. "...if you want to live." And now his friends will do anything in their power to find his Bey... If they even knew where to start. Rated 'T' for violence.
1. Chapter One: Under the Stars

**Hello! *Smiles weakly* I'm very tired. I'm working on the second chapter for this story, but I just can't add anything more tonight; I'm absolutely exhausted. I hope there aren't any mistakes... My friend, who read over it for me, saw nothing and I was so tired, when I combed through it, I didn't see it. And I have been reading that part all day. Anyway, I fixed that before I posted this. XD**

**Because my friends thinks I should do it...**

**Gingka: Jedi-Gingka doesn't own Beyblade Metal Fight. *Grins***

**You're happy about that, aren't you? *Rolls eyes* Nevermind. Anyway, enjoy. :)**

_**No Game**_

_**Chapter One: Under the Stars**_

Four hours. For four hours, Gingka had been laying on his back, staring at the stars with even more of an unusual interest than normal. He hadn't moved much; the occasional restitution of his body, maybe rearranging of his arms out of some kind of subconscious boredom, but he didn't seem discontent at all.

Madoka had lost any enjoyment in the activity of stargazing after the first hour, but hadn't left him. The thought was persistent in her mind that he did enjoy this, and she wanted to know why. It was extremely late now, though, and she was tired. "Gingka?"

He didn't acknowledge her existence in any way. She spoke louder, clearing her throat beforehand. "Gingka."

Surprisingly, he didn't jump. "Yeah?" He didn't remove his eyes from the constellations either. They remained calmly focused on the distant twinkling lights, reflecting the images clearly. He was obviously distracted by something; Madoka didn't know what this time.

"What are you doing?"

"Counting the stars." He replied simply, smiling as he eyed a constellation, one that must represent either his or one of his friends' and rivals' Beys, with sparkling irises. He must have counted hundreds—_thousands_—of stars by now, how could he want to continue?

"I'm going back to the B-Pit," She told him, pushing herself up on her elbows. "I'll leave the door unlocked in case you decide to sleep inside on the couch." _Like a _civilized _person,_ she piqued silently as she stood.

Gingka glanced up for a mere second, giving Madoka a confused look. "Oh, okay…" His voice faded for a few seconds. "I don't think I will, though. It's a nice night… kind of reminds me of when I used to travel so much." A weak smile of remembrance laced with pain appeared on his face.

She had to admit, it was probably easier for him to sleep outside, considering all that had happened in his life. She'd never have been able to survive losing her own father and then exploring unknown cities alone.

Still, aggravated slightly, Madoka Amano returned to her home. She opened the door and locked it behind her. Ignoring the Beys in need of repair that were piled on her desk, she switched into a night gown and slid into her bed, thoughts now pounding out her ideas of sleeping.

Gingka had been very distracted… and quiet, to add on. That wasn't like him. He only did this for very few reasons; either he was sad from a battle loss—_unlikely_—or he's depressed over something—_possible, abnormal, but possible_—_or_ he's thinking of leaving.

_He did mention traveling_…

She brushed the notion away. Gingka was happy to be in Metal Bey City, he would have mentioned wanting to leave. It seemed hard to believe that the famous Blader could be uncomfortable… but then again, famous was a well-used term around the teenager.

Deciding she would talk to him about in the morning, she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

* * *

Gingka's eyes fluttered shut. _One-hundred-thousand-forty-nine…_ Happily, he accepted the idea that sleep was again of his way. He let each part of his body relax, sleep beginning to saturate him. A cool wind picked up and fanned him gently. And quietly, a familiar lullaby protruded to the forward of his brain. The one his mother used to sing to him. He felt his mind start to fall into a land where his memories were his dreams, away from his worries. But this time, they weren't cursing him with terrible fates. His father and mother reached out their hands to him, he longing to grab them—

Someone knocked him painfully out of his dream, wrenching him over in his stunned state. At first, Gingka made no attempt to struggle, so confused in the quickness and still falling into consciousness. Something wedged itself into his back, snapping him to his senses. It was cold, hard and oddly shaped.

"Give me your valuables… if you want to live." Gingka could hear the smile in the assailant's deep voice. They were an experienced robber, else they'd have been much more nervous, and they wouldn't hesitate to kill or maim him. Severely or not, he'd rather not end up in a hospital… or under a white sheet.

"I—I don't h—have anything." He stuttered, finding that it was a hard task to simply move his arm to set it spread out, palm down, in surrender. They shifted through his pockets, turning up some spare Bey Parts and a few oddities and trinkets. Next, they dug through the pockets on his belt. They tossed his launcher aside, but weighed his Bey in their empty hand.

"Heh, don't have anything, huh?" Gingka cringed; no one was going to take his Bey away from him! Not again.

Catching them slightly off-guard, he flipped over, intending to do—well, anything—to whoever was attacking him. He discovered it to be a man; as if the voice hadn't been enough for him to decide that. The only thing that he could manage to form into an actual action fast enough, was knock the Bey from the man's possession and stare at him fearful and dry of any plans.

Well, the only thing he could do before the gun went off.

* * *

**Yeah, sorry about it being so short... I have a bit more written, but this seemed like a better place to stop. I'll seriously try to remember to update soon... I need to practice this side of writing. XD**

**Also, I am working on some happier stories, too. I just... ****_LOVE_****messing with emotion. **

**Open to helpful reviews! :D**

**~Jedi-Gingka~**


	2. Chapter 2: The After-Shot

**Jee, I'm sorry guys... I'm a awful author... And I also have had more experiance with after death wounds related to Forensic Anthropology (I watch the TV show Bones...), so I'm actually not as knowledgable in bleeding wounds situations. I did my best, I was never really allowed to watch shows like ER or anything when I was little. XD But... I've had a bit of practice with bleeding wounds... (I've injured myself badly and my sister did, too...)**

**I'm also sorry for the decline in writing... I got some nasty Writer's Block and Insperation Block.**

**And to that someone who asked what the meaning of this story was: It's for reading and feeling and thinking and anticipating! :D The plotline is almost _NEVER_ revealed in the first chapter. ;) It's hinted at sometimes, or patially laid out, but never completely exposed. :)**

**So... I'm going to enforce Madoka to do the honors this time...**

**Madoka: Jedi-Gingka does not own Metal Fight Beyblade!**

**(P.S. TWO CHAPTERS. YAY FOR ME. XD)**

_**No Game**_

_**Chapter Two: The "After-Shot"**_

* * *

Was it morning already? Was dawn the light waking him? He opened his eyes to a harshly bright world that somehow remained dark at the same time. Was he even breathing? Gingka opened his mouth and gasped for air. Blood flooded it and he choked on the liquid squeezing its way up his throat.

Slowly, the events of earlier returned and played through his head. He must have passed out once he had been shot.

Pain twisted his face as he discovered the numb feeling of pain. He had to be assured he _was_ actually hurt by sitting up and peering at the blood saturating his shirt and jacket and gluing it to his body. He recoiled in both shock and the still startling stabbing of something sharp penetrating his chest when he moved.

A strangled cry for help made him gag. He would get nowhere that way. He would have to walk. Reaching beside him, he found that his Bey was most certainly gone; not that he expected it to be there when that white light engulfed him and pushed him into a black sleep.

His legs felt almost nonexistent as he forced himself to move. Whatever blood was filling his body was erupting from both the bullet wound and his mouth like a never-ending fountain. He tried to stand, staggering as he pushed forward, looking half-drunk as he stumbled down the street.

He silently hoped that a police officer would stop him for just that and discover the truth and help him, but as he got further and farther from the crime scene, it became apparent he wouldn't be. He wouldn't be receiving help from anyone nearby.

_Where am I going?_ He wondered_. The hospital and the WBBA building are too far for me to reach; I'd die of blood loss before I got too_ _far_. _There's nowhere close enough. Except… Madoka_. He would have leapt for joy if he hadn't felt like passing out. _The B-Pit. She's nearby, she usually keeps the door unlocked. _A smile poked through. _For me._

It didn't take long to reach the small shop. He was unsure if she would still be rearranging things or not. he forgot himself and leaned against the glass door, leaving bloody smudges and handprints. She wasn't there. He decided to try for the back door, the one she kept unlocked.

"Madoka…" He moaned weakly, trying to push on the entrance way. To his displeasure, it was locked tight. Meekly, He thumped a fist in anger. "Darn it."

That wasn't such a bad idea. He continued the weird attempt at knocking until there was a sure sign someone was coming. The door opened suddenly and, thrown off balance, Gingka toppled inside face first, splattering the red fluid that escaped his body onto the surrounding floor.

"Hi, Madoka…" There was a minute of silence where a shocked, barefooted Madoka stared before Gingka grew tired of this and the fact he wasn't getting the attention he required and turned his face in her direction. "Madoka, say something…"

She screamed.

"Gingka, what happened?!" She was such a mess, broadcasting her thoughts in shrieks and cries, tears pelting her skin like raindrops. She immediately turned him over and touching his bloodied shirt in a panicky fashion. "Are you alright?!"

"C—call an ambulance…!" He fought the words from his body, almost concerned he had come to the wrong person. He was lying on her floor bleeding to death, and she was asking _him_ if he was _"alright"_?! _What kind of an idiot question is that?!_ _What a stupid question._

"R—right!"

It was getting harder for him to breathe; his breaths were getting cut short and they seemed insufficient and slowed. Labored gasps were hoarsely spun from his lips, burning as they were ejected. And oddly, the only thing he could think about at this time was his bey. "They took my bey…" He wheezed, Madoka pulling him close as her clear words turned fuzzy to his ears.

She gripped the phone to her ear, ignoring the woman saying that medical professionals were on their way. "Gingka, stop! D—d—don't close your eyes!" It was more of a plea than a command.

He touched her hand, squeezing it as a reply. Something like, "I'll try." He blinked, any further sounds becoming deaf to him. It was weird. He couldn't feel anything. And somehow, he felt like crying. And then, without a thought, he shut his eyes. "They took Pegasus."

* * *

Madoka found no comfort in the paramedic who had come to examine her. She was completely blocking out the questions for now, half by accident. If Gingka was alright, she wanted to be assured she could respond correctly to them, and if he wasn't… well, she still couldn't think all but blurred thoughts, it'd be better to wait.

All things considered, she felt that she was doing a remarkable job of staying calm. Her fingers gripped the white blanket wrapped around her, shutting her eyes and shaking her head like it would blot out the night's events.

Gingka held on for as long as he could, though to be honest, she didn't know how long that was. As if in relief, he noticeably stopped breathing when the paramedics arrived and were checking his injuries. That was when she almost lost the contents of her stomach.

Even though you couldn't actually see much, there was a lot of blood, and a singular hole, visibly deep, that ran through his flesh. They had to preform something on him, her view had been obstructed by several medics, before Gingka began showing vitals again. Then they began compressing the wound to slow the bleeding.

They escorted her to the hospital, and that's where she was now; in the waiting room, glaring aimlessly at the phone left in her hands.

Terror sifted through the disturbed form of the young Beyblade Mechanic. "D—Dead?" She tried to prevent her head from exploding. "It can't be _dead_." Her cellphone was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment. Anxiety was rushing through her bloodstream, now part of her.

Luckily, she had called Gingka's father hours ago. That was quite the task; first she was scolded for calling him in the middle of a WWBA meeting, then she was trying to calm down the man panicking on the other end. The call concluded with an angry and distraught Ryo Hagane explaining the situation to the people his was with and running out on them, gasps riding the wind behind him. Being late as it was and the fact he also happened to be in Hong Kong, he would only just be arriving soon.

And how come all of her and Gingka's friends seemed unreachable? She'd left messages on phone numbers she figured everyone would get to and explained what happened. She broke down crying after she had become desperate enough to try to reach Kyoya, who promptly answered. He was the last person she wanted to contact if something this were to happen.

He happened to be near and to the present time, he was getting something to eat and acting unconcerned over the whole issue.

Madoka's fingers fumbled over the keys of her laptop uselessly as he finally came to sit next to her, a candy bar of sorts intertwined in his grip. When she looked up at her screen to review what she had typed, very few words had been left un-jumbled or legible.

Kyoya peered over at her screen curiously. "You can't take this kind of pressure, can you?" He said in his scratchy voice with a mouthful of candy. He chuckled to himself like it was some kind of joke that only he got.

Madoka scowled at him. "It's not like I'm used to people nearly being killed, Kyoya. It's horrible and you should be ashamed for acting so calm!" She snapped, getting up from her chair and tossing one of her delicate fingers in Kyoya's face.

He smacked it away, standing to his feet as well. Being taller than Gingka, who was quite a bit taller than Madoka, Kyoya was very intimidating. But Madoka was angry. "Well, someone has to be calm, and it sure isn't going to be _you_." He retorted, crossing his arms.

"Who says it isn't?! Huh?!" She thrust her arms to her sides.

"Right now," Kyoya replied. "That's a really good example." He smirked triumphantly. If looks could kill, Kyoya would be dead ten times over again, for Madoka was promising his death at her turquoise glance. They never had gotten along.

She was about to slap him—not that it would have made things any better—when a desperate father caught Madoka by the shoulders and came to her eye level, which was quite a step. "Where is he?! What do they—you— know?!" Ryo studied her face.

"N—nothing…" She choked, emotions beginning to get the best of her again. "They haven't said anything since we arrived…" She became suddenly aware of the oddly shaped figure emerging from behind him.

"Madoka, I got your message." Tsubasa refitted his grip on the sleeping child on his back's legs. Yu snorted and continued drooling on the bare shoulder of elder boy. He was now right in front of her, calm as always.

She nodded, lips twisting as she struggled not to cry again. Neither Tsubasa or Ryo questioned her funny expression and Kyoya seemed not to be bothered in the slightest, now sitting down with legs and arms crossed comfortably.

Madoka's features froze as a steady voice spoke from far away, making her heart stop. "Miss Amano?" She tensed up as she faced the man dressed in light green scrubs, walking toward them from the Emergency Room door. There were stray stains of blood on his coat and it was obvious he wasn't a real doctor and possibly a nurse.

"Y-yes?" She responded hopefully.

Once he was close enough, his voice could be heard tremoring at whatever he was about to tell them. Madoka's throat refused to swallow, her hands became sweaty, her head rushed through every possible occurrence, her knees turned to wet wax, melting at the burning flame that threatened Gingka's life. On the outside, she seemed anxious for the news, not scared or terrified as she was. What good liars people could be, for the shaking of his vocals had ended along with his sentence and Madoka's breathing.

* * *

**Well, there ya go... Hold on to that cliff tightly, try not to fall off!**

**Also, a good friend looked over it and she didn't think anything was out of place, and I don't think it is either. There are, however, some rough spots, but let me know if you notice a mistake! :) I'd like to correct it.**

**I'm open to helpful reviews! :D**

**May the Force Battle with you! ;)**

**~Jedi-Gingka~**


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